


Pathways to the Heart

by EclecticMuse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Bus era, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Demisexual Leo Fitz, Demisexuality, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fitz POV, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Introspection, Kissing, Oral Sex, Playground Era, Romantic Fluff, SciOps Era, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 06:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15043118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/pseuds/EclecticMuse
Summary: In a hotel room in Bucharest, Leo Fitz finally gives himself away body, mind, and soul. While there, he reflects on how he reached this point, and tries to make Jemma understand just how important it is to him.





	Pathways to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Spite is a powerful motivator, and so, it turns out, is the desire for better and truthful representation. I am demisexual. It's a label and an identity that is still fairly new to me, but this much I know: being demisexual does not make you 'sexually incompatible' with anyone, nor does it render you 'broken'. Anyone who thinks this has a fundamental misunderstanding of what it means to be demi. So I felt compelled to write this, to show how a demi Fitz and cishet Jemma could be in a normal, happy, loving relationship, the way they're meant to be.
> 
> Alright, I'll get off my box and let you get to the fic. Hope you enjoy, and this wasn't run by a beta, so any mistakes are mine all mine.

For most of his life, Fitz had never spared much thought for girls.

Oh, he knew they were there. Girls teased him at school just as much as the other boys did, made him feel just as rotten for being unable to fit in and assimilate and just be _normal._  He was acutely aware of their presence. He just never thought to pay them the kind of attention that other boys did, didn’t see the point in thinking about them the way the other boys did. He was far too busy figuring out how to take things apart and put them back together again, driving his mum to her wit’s end by dismantling all of the appliances and electronics in their small flat, and terrorizing their neighbors with the experiments he ran in the back garden.

Then he went off to the States for school and he was far too young compared to the rest of his peers to give girls or romance or crushes any sort of real thought, so he buried himself in his coursework instead, determined to be the best in his class. He always came out on top, and his excellent marks and glowing reviews went a ways toward soothing the loneliness he felt, not having any friends or anyone to truly connect with.

When he arrived at S.H.I.E.L.D.’s SciTech Academy and met Jemma Simmons, all of that changed. Finally, there was someone who could match him wit for wit, who wasn’t afraid to challenge him or debate him, who was--dare he admit to himself--smarter than he was. Once they were paired up in their Chemical Kinetics lab and Fitz got over his fear of talking to her, they became fast friends. Before he knew it, they were spending all of their time together: studying, working on projects, dreaming up new ones, or even just hanging out to do normal things like eat takeout or watch Doctor Who.

It wasn’t long after that when Fitz realized he’d developed a rather alarming crush on Simmons. It made sense, when he thought about it. She was the first person his age in his peer group in years, she was brilliant and witty and kind, and she actually seemed to tolerate his prickliness and rough edges with ease. It didn’t hurt that she was pretty, too, with her fine features and warm brown eyes, but he liked her mind the best of all. It was so refreshing to finally have someone who understood him on a fundamental level and who actually wanted to spend time with him that it was easy to see why he liked her, why he’d gotten a crush for the first time in his young life.

There was just one problem, if it could be called that: Simmons didn’t return his feelings. When she made eyes at anyone, it was always the more athletic and toned Ops cadets, which occasionally made Fitz feel exactly like the gangly and awkward 16-year-old he was, wishing for a late growth spurt to add a few inches to his shorter than average height. Maybe _then_ she would give him a second glance. But if being big and strong and dumb was what it took to capture her attention, he wasn’t going to do it. Besides, her friendship was worth more to him than a romance with her could ever be, and he didn’t want to risk what was quickly becoming the most important relationship in his life by mucking it up with his inconvenient feelings.

So Fitz set them aside, and focused on building the most incredible friendship he’d ever known, until it felt like he knew Simmons inside and out, better than he knew himself, all of her hopes and fears and dreams, and she knew the same about him. It felt better, more fulfilling than any kind of cheap romance ever could. Of that he was sure.

Once they got to SciOps and they became more of an age with some of their coworkers, romance and women became more strange and bothersome. Simmons had a semi-regular parade of boyfriends that she kept coming through the apartment he shared with her, much to his annoyance--he didn’t think any of them were good enough for her, and he didn’t see what she saw in any of them. He didn’t understand how she could go home with them after just a couple of dates. To make matters worse, she was encouraging him to date, too. She worried about him spending all his evenings and weekends cooped up in their apartment, she said.

“Why don’t you ask out Sanderson from across the hall?” she asked him in the lab one day. “I saw the way she looked at you when you were talking the other day, she’s bound to say yes. And she’s quite pretty.”

Fitz shrugged and went back to tightening the screws on the prototype he was working on. He could appreciate that Agent Sanderson was conventionally attractive, but that was all it was: an observation. The thought didn’t stir anything more in him. He’d found her to be dull as dishwater the few times they’d spoken, and no amount of beauty could make up for that in his mind. She wasn’t like Simmons, whose intelligence and the fact that he knew everything about her somehow made her even more beautiful in ways he couldn’t explain. There was no point to asking Sanderson out. He felt no attraction to her whatsoever.

“Eh,” he muttered, when it became clear that Simmons was expecting an answer from him. “I’m not interested.”

Every once in awhile he did cave to her prodding--or felt enough of a connection with someone that prompted possible further exploration--to ask a girl on a date, but things never panned out. He never got past one dinner date or two, either through his own decision or his date’s, and he never felt comfortable letting anything physical progress past a kiss goodnight, despite his dates’ obvious interest. The spark just wasn’t there for him. No one was interesting enough to hold his attention for very long, and he’d never felt that coil in his gut, that twist of desire, that meant he wanted more.

It didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have, though. Why did he need a girlfriend, anyway? He had Simmons. She was everything he could ever want in a companion; she fulfilled all his needs for mental and emotional intimacy. As for the rest of it… well, he had his bedroom, his hand, and a bottle of lotion to go along with half-formed images in his head that focused more on the sensation of being loved rather than a body pressed to his. Any yearning for that kind of closeness with Simmons had been shut away a long time ago.

It was only when Fitz almost lost her to the Chitauri virus that it all came flooding back--but worse.

Once he realized he was in love with Simmons, it was like a veil had been lifted. He’d always recognized that she was beautiful, but now she was _luminous_ , and it shook him to his core. The sweep of her hair over her shoulder, the slope of her slender neck, the delicate shape of her mouth--it was so difficult not to stare. Just seeing the way she moved about the lab, confident and in charge, made heat warm his blood, and for the first time in his life, Fitz knew what it was to _want_.

It became a preoccupation. He wanted to know what it would feel like to press his lips to hers, to hold her close and trace his fingers down her spine and feel her melt into him. He wanted to learn the softness of her skin and hear her whisper his name with desire coloring her voice. More than anything, he wanted to take the intimacy they’d cultivated in all the other aspects of their relationship and extend it to the physical, to know her body as completely as he knew her mind. He didn’t want her just because she was beautiful. He wanted her because she was _Simmons,_ because he knew how she took her tea and that she bit her nails when she was stressed, that she had a secret love of Jane Austen novels and missed her parents more than she ever let on. He wanted her because she’d introduced him to his favorite sandwich and she kept making it for him, because she kept a stash of pretzels hidden in the lab just for him, because she knew all his weaknesses, because she hadn’t pitied him when he’d finally told her about his father.

She still didn’t want him back, of course. That hadn’t changed in the intervening years. It was excruciating, in a way, being so close to her in all aspects of their lives except for that _one_ way and longing for it so much, _feeling_ so much, but there was little he could do about it. She still favored specialist types like Mike Peterson and Trip, without so much as a glanced spared in his direction. Simmons would never go for a guy like him.

And so Fitz realized that he would have to love her in silence, that their remarkable friendship would have to be enough to sustain him. On most days, it was. On others, his jealousy reared its ugly head, leaving Simmons wondering what had gotten into him, and Fitz unable to explain his behavior without giving himself away.

But over time, miraculously, Simmons opened her heart to him. It took years and more pain, tragedy, and false starts than Fitz thought any one person could withstand, but they found their way to each other. Everything they’d gone through, all of the triumph and misunderstandings and heartache, led to them lying side by side on their backs in bed at a hotel in Bucharest, their chests heaving as they fought to catch their breaths.

“Wow,” Jemma--because she was _Jemma_ now--murmured after a moment or two, sounding awed. “We should’ve done this ten years ago.”

Fitz let her words settle over him as he stared up at the ceiling without really seeing it, the last remnants of pleasure still whispering through his veins. “I would’ve been up for it,” he said at length. When Jemma didn’t immediately reply, he rolled his head to look at her and found that she was watching him, biting her lip and clearly trying not to hit him with a saucy comeback. He rolled his eyes. “I would have,” he added. “I was mad for you at the Academy.”

Her expression softened, tinted with a hint of surprise. “Were you really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Don’t look so surprised. You were actually my age, and brilliant and and funny and bloody gorgeous. ‘Course I liked you.”

Jemma hummed softly, warmly. “ _Fitz._ You should have said something.”

Fitz shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine. I mean, we’re here now, and…”

He looked back up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he could express to her how much more this meant to him now, given everything they’d been through and how much closer they were, without being a total sap or coming off weird. He knew how many boyfriends she’d had, and that she was plenty experienced. How strange would it sound to her, telling her that this _mattered,_ that maybe he’d been saving himself just for her, that he couldn’t imagine ever being this way with anyone else? He trusted that Jemma would never maliciously tease him, but the fear of being misunderstood was still there.

Maybe he could show her, if he couldn’t find the words. That had always been his way, after all. They’d fallen together fast and hard before, caught up in the excitement of finally being together and crossing the line from friends to lovers, but now he could take his time. He could go slow and worship Jemma the way he’d wanted to for so long.

Fitz rolled onto his side to face her, pulling himself close so he could lean in and press slow, soft kisses to the side of her face, starting at her temple and working his way down to her jaw. Jemma sighed, one of her hands coming up to lazily trail over the arm he was using to support himself, and as he moved to kiss over her forehead and down her nose, she whispered, “What about Mack?”

“What about him?” he replied, unconcerned, and gently nudged at her face with his until she turned it so he could kiss her opposite cheek.

“What if he calls?” she asked. Her voice had turned a little breathy, much to his approval. “I didn’t think we had much time.”

Fitz brushed a few kisses over the shell of her ear, a plume of warmth rising in his chest when she shivered beneath him. “We might not. Until then, let me--” The words stuck briefly in his throat. “Let me love you.”

He heard Jemma’s breath catch. “Oh, _Fitz_ ,” she said, but before she could say anything else he moved to properly kiss her, sliding his lips against hers languidly. She sighed into his mouth, lifting her hand to wind through his hair, and he let himself get lost for a few minutes, reveling in how it felt to kiss her, to gently slant her mouth open with his and stroke his tongue over hers. It was still a new thing, kissing Jemma, intoxicating and sweet, and he wanted to memorize the sensation.

Once the need for oxygen intervened, Fitz pulled away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, still keeping his pace slow, encouraged by the soft noises Jemma made. “You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?” he said when he reached her pulse point, a fit of impulsivity driving him to be honest with her anyway. “This is--it’s--it’s important.”

Jemma carefully framed his face with her hands, then pulled him back up so they were nose-to-nose. “Of course I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “You know I feel the same way, don’t you?”

Fitz swallowed. “It’s a bit different--”

She kissed him, achingly sweet, and ran a hand over his hair. “Tell me, then.”

He searched her eyes for a moment, and it was finding the openness and sincerity written there that gave him the bravery to go on. “This is--I’ve never done this before,” he admitted in a low voice, leaning his forehead on hers. “I never _wanted_ to do this until, um, until I knew how I felt about you. It never felt right with anyone else. It’s… it’s kind of, um, a big deal to me. And I know it’s probably not for you, or not _as_ big of a deal, but… I can’t go back from this. You… you’re it for me, Jemma.” He dropped his gaze, feeling almost uncomfortably laid bare.

“Fitz.” Jemma’s soft voice made him look back up, and the tenderness in her eyes made his heart thump painfully in his chest. She brushed her hand through his hair again. “You’re it for me, too,” she said quietly. “And if it’s a big deal for you, then it is for me as well. I’m not taking this lightly, Fitz. What we talked about… the singularity, crossing the event horizon… I meant all of it. I don’t ever want to go back.” She gave him a small yet adoring smile. “I’m afraid you’re rather stuck with me.”

It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leaving him feeling bright and effervescent. “You say that,” he teased, swooping down to press relieved kisses all over her face again, “like that’s a bad thing.”

“Never,” Jemma replied, laughing lightly, though it turned into a muted moan when he quickly made his way back down to her pulse point. “I _want_ to be stuck with you. You wonderful, sometimes infuriating, but very romantic-- _oh_ \--”

He’d just licked into the hollow of her throat, and it was a wonderful thing, Fitz decided, to have the ability to derail Jemma’s normally sharp, focused brain. He stayed there, worrying at her skin with his mouth and tongue and soft nips of his teeth, until he could tell that her breathing had turned short and shallow. Then he moved on.

He kissed along her collarbone before trailing more soft, slow kisses down onto her chest, wanting to recapture the easy pace he had set before he’d interrupted himself. It didn’t stop a hot thread of arousal and excitement from winding its way through him, though. He’d had the opportunity to acquaint himself with Jemma’s breasts during their first time, but it had been all too brief in his opinion. They were magnificent, and he wanted to give them the attention he felt they deserved.

Fitz felt Jemma’s breathing hitch as his mouth moved to the upper swell of one breast, her body shifting slightly beneath his as if she was impatient and wanted to draw his attention to where she really wanted it--as if his attention was really headed anywhere else. He smiled against her skin and brought his hand up to cup her other breast. Jemma made a quiet, pleased noise, and a flash of heat washed through him again at how impossibly soft her skin was, how much he loved pressing kisses to every inch of it, and how much he wanted to memorize the taste of her.

He took his time, dropping light kisses around her perfect, dusky pink nipple, paying attention to the outer curve of her breast and the underside, until he could practically feel Jemma vibrating with anticipation. Then he brushed the softest of kisses over her nipple. She gasped; Fitz glanced up at her, grinning, then wrapped his lips around her nipple and gently sucked on it.

The sound Jemma made was all the gratification he needed, and he stopped teasing her then, kneading one breast with his hand while he licked and sucked at the other. He’d done this briefly their first time and he was happy for a second chance, feeling like he could get drunk off the noises she made, all quiet and sensual and needy.

He split his attention equally between both breasts, switching back and forth between the two, feeling sparks shoot down his spine at the way Jemma tugged at his hair when her hands found their way to the back of his head. There was so much he wanted to learn about her, to catalogue and test and file away for hopeful future reference, to discover the best ways to please her, but when her moans began to turn a little _too_ needy, her fingers grasping at his hair a little _too_ much, he knew it was time to move on again.

He released her breast with a soft _pop_ and shifted to draw a line of kisses down onto her stomach. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbled against her skin, sliding his hands down her sides. He’d said that already, hadn’t he? No matter, he couldn’t be embarrassed--it was true and he would keep saying it until she told him to stop. “You’re so gorgeous I can’t stand it.” He heard Jemma sigh, felt her fingers brush over the crown of his head, and then he reached the small thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

Desire coursed through him, hot and thick, and to test if she was ready, he ran gentle, questing fingers up through her folds. He couldn’t stifle a groan at feeling how wet she was, remembering how tight and hot she’d been surrounding him. “Jemma,” he said, an idea seizing on him, his voice sounding low and hoarse to his ears. “Can I--can I use my mouth on you?”

She made a desperate noise, already widening her legs to make room for him. “Yes,” she gasped, “ _please._ ”

A part of Fitz still couldn’t believe that Jemma was this eager for him as he settled himself between her thighs, even if he was a little nervous. If tonight was his first time for everything he certainly hadn’t done this before, either, and while he was confident he’d be a quick study, he was still wary of failing to live up to expectations.

“Talk to me, yeah?” he murmured, parting her lips with his fingers. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

“I--I will,” she breathed, and he could tell she was trying to keep from moving beneath his touch. He spared one glance up at her, to see her with her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks flushed, before he leaned in to lick one long, soft swipe up through the center of her folds.

Jemma moaned, and Fitz felt heat flood his body at that combined with the taste of her. It was dark and earthy and something uniquely _Jemma_ , and he immediately knew he’d never be able to get enough of it. Groaning, he licked her again, careful and slow, thrilling at the wet heat of her beneath his tongue. Jemma whimpered, tilting her hips into his mouth, and he laid an arm low across her hips to keep her still.

He stayed that way for a long moment, mapping her out with his tongue in slow strokes, falling in love with the soft noises she made, until he found the little nub that was sure to be her clit. When he sucked it into his mouth, giving an experimental little flick of his tongue, Jemma cried out, stuttering his name on a shocked moan. He had to grind his hips into the mattress to stave off his own arousal, the sound was so electrifying.

Certain he’d caught on something good, Fitz applied himself in earnest. He flicked and swirled his tongue over her clit, playing with speed and pressure the way any good scientist of his caliber should, trying to find out what Jemma liked best. Her hands had gone back into his hair, her fingers twisting tight into his curls, and the way her nails scratched over his scalp when he did something really pleasing only spurred him on to do it even more. And he followed her directions when she gave them--the gentle tugs and nudges of her hands on his head to direct his mouth to the perfect spot and angle that set her on fire. It wasn’t long before Jemma was panting with pleasure, a litany of cries and moans of his name falling from her lips, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“Fitz,” she gasped, drawing her knees up slightly. “Fingers. Use your fingers, please. I want them inside me.”

He hummed his assent against her clit, feeling her shiver as he did so, and he knew a moment of intense satisfaction that he’d reduced Jemma to the point of only being able to form the most basic of sentences. He, Leopold Fitz, was taking Jemma Simmons apart with his mouth and she _liked it._ Pleased with his results so far and eager to try more, he shifted to bring his free hand closer without losing the focus of his mouth on her clit. When he traced a fingertip around her entrance and she gasped again, her hips jerking under his hold, he felt a rush of pure pleasure. He did it again, twice, just to hear her whimper and plead for him and to wonder at how slick and heated her skin was, before he slowly pushed one finger inside her.

And then he was lost. The sensation of her wet heat surrounding his finger was almost too much for him, and all he could think of was how it had felt for her to sink down onto him not so long ago. It made him want to surge up and take her--he was more than ready for that again now--but he was determined to see this through first.

Jemma moaned at the thrust of his finger, low and raw; it was unlike any sound he’d heard her make yet and it made him groan against her in reply, quickly adding a second finger and setting up a slow rhythm. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be doing anything in particular, but she seemed to like it when he pushed in deep and firm with a little bit of a twist to his wrist, if the timbre of her sighs and moans was anything to go by.

“Faster,” Jemma begged, her voice thin and breathy. “Just a little. _Please._ ”

Fitz was only too happy to comply. He sped up the motion of his hand a bit, thrusting his fingers into her with a little more force, and hastened the swirls of his tongue over her clit for good measure. Jemma responded better than any fantasy he’d ever had of her, keening a high note as her back arched, her thighs trembling on either side of his head while her hands clenched even tighter into his hair. “Fitz,” she cried. “Oh god, Fitz, please, I’m--I’m— _Fitz_ \--”

Her words dissolved into a moan, and he felt her inner walls clamp down around his fingers as her entire body shook. Fitz wasn’t sure he’d ever felt as powerful as he did right then, knowing he’d gotten Jemma off with just his hands and his mouth. Pride flooded his veins, warming him from the inside out and and settling low in his gut, catching the arousal that had been steadily building inside him as he worked her over.

When Jemma finally relaxed against the sheets and loosened her hold on his hair, signaling for him to stop, Fitz carefully pulled away and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, looking up at her. Her eyes were still closed, her pink lips parted, her skin flushed and her chest rising and falling as she struggled to calm her breathing. She’d never looked more beautiful to him, and his heart was flooded with love and desire for her.

He pushed up onto his hands and knees and slowly made his way up her body, dropping kisses as he went. “You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Amazing and incredible and bloody gorgeous, and I’m never going to stop saying that.”

Below him, Jemma huffed a content little laugh as he kissed up her neck to her jaw. “You’re really rather good at that, for it being your first time,” she said lazily, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders.

Fitz couldn’t help the way his chest puffed out at her praise. “I’m a quick study, that’s all.” He kissed the spot just below her ear.

Jemma sighed happily. “I’m almost afraid to think of what you’ll be capable of after a little time and practice.”

He barely had enough time to exult in the realization that there would be _more_ of this, more time to learn Jemma’s body the same way he knew her mind, before she took his face in her hands and brought him up to kiss him full on the lips. He’d been hesitant to give her a proper kiss, unsure if she’d want it given where he’d just had his mouth, but he was more than happy to sink into her embrace, letting her slant his mouth open to delve her tongue inside for deeper kisses. She tugged him down until he was resting his full weight on her, and he let out a quiet moan at the feeling of all of her bare skin on his, her breasts against his chest and his hard cock pressing insistently into her inner thigh.

Jemma’s hands glided down his back as they kissed, skimming over the small of his back and onto the curve of his arse, encouraging him to rut against her. He could do nothing but obey, and he muffled another groan against her lips as it forced the head of his cock to slide up through her folds, still slick with the combined juices of her arousal and his own saliva. All he wanted was to bury himself in her.

“Jemma,” he mumbled in between kisses, shuddering as she rolled her hips into his again. “Christ, I want you.”

“Condom,” she whispered in reply, her voice laced with need.

Fitz nodded in reply, but it still took him a moment to force himself away from her, pausing to reach for the bedside table and the small pile of foil packets that had spilled out of the box when he’d been in a hurry earlier. Taking one, he sat up on his knees and opened it, rolling the condom down onto himself as quick as he could. Then he let Jemma pull him back down to her.

She was a little impatient, wasting no time in drawing her knees up, canting her hips so he nudged right against her entrance as he settled back down on top of her, but he didn’t mind one bit. He blew out a shaky breath, kissed her, and pushed forward.

It took a few slow, short thrusts and Jemma’s hands guiding his hips for Fitz to sink fully inside of her, but it was just as mind-blowing as it had been the first time, that first rush of joining, and he let out another trembling breath as their hips met, trying to get a hold on his control. Beneath him, Jemma’s mouth was halfway open again, her face caught in an expression of exquisite bliss.

“Alright?” he whispered, leaning down to dust her cheeks with barely-there kisses.

“More than alright,” she murmured, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her feet locking behind his knees. “ _Wonderful._ ”

He set a slow rhythm again, wanting to keep the easy pace he’d initially decided upon, needing to memorize exactly how it was to be with Jemma, to savor every little gasp and feeling and touch. This position felt different; she’d taken charge their first time, keeping him on his back and riding him to completion. He felt more in control of himself this way, even if the give of the mattress beneath his knees was a little strange, but he loved the way he could feel Jemma pressed against him, her arms around him and her breath hot against his ear.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma moaned quietly, pulling him even closer as she arched up into him, meeting each of his steady thrusts with a roll of her hips. “This is so--so--you feel so _good._ ” One of her hands stroked over his hair. “I need you. _Please._ ”

Fitz couldn’t stop himself from groaning with desire, moving to place hot, suckling kisses along her neck. While the speed and fervency of their first time had been uniquely thrilling, there was something about this--slow and tender and passionate--that had everything he felt for Jemma bubbling up inside his chest, straining to be let out. _This_ was what he had wanted all those times he’d dreamed of being with her, when he’d wanted nothing more than to meld with her, mind and body and soul: entwined together in bed, making love, having it _feel_ like love, knowing that she felt just as strongly for him as he did for her. It felt like the culmination of everything they’d been through just to reach this point, their inevitable conclusion, and suddenly he couldn’t keep the words back anymore.

“I love you,” he gasped as he rocked into her. “Jemma, I love you.”

Jemma gasped, drawing her knees up a little higher, and let out what sounded like a half-sob of joy. “ _Fitz_ ,” she moaned, planting messy kisses across his cheek even as they continued to move together, “I love you. I _love you_. I love you too, Fitz.”

Fitz’s heart swelled with answering elation and the truth of her words, and it mixed with desire and the pleasure he was taking from her until everything else fell away and it felt like they were the only two people left on Earth, the only things that mattered. He could feel his orgasm building, a deep tingling building at the base of his spine, and he hoped Jemma was close. He’d barely held out long enough to satisfy her their first time and he didn’t want anything to go wrong now.

Panting with exertion, he kissed up to her ear. “Are you close?” he managed to ask.

“Almost,” Jemma replied, her voice tight with need. “Just--a little more--” One of her hands strayed back down to his arse and he groaned at the feeling of her fingers clenching into his flesh, inching him that much closer to his release. “Maybe just a little harder--”

 _Oh_. A flush ran through Fitz’s body at that, and he upped his efforts, still keeping his pace measured but putting more force behind every thrust. Jemma immediately moaned, rather loudly, and tightened her feet on the backs of his thighs, forcing his thrusts to stay short but hard. It made stars burst behind his eyelids, and before he knew it he was right at the edge, his face pressed into Jemma’s neck as he chanted her name over and over. Everything about her, from the heat of her body around him to the sound of her cries to the way her nipples rubbed against his chest was threatening to send him tumbling over.

“Fitz--Fitz--” she moaned breathlessly, meeting his thrusts as fast as he would let her. “Just like that-- _yes-_ -”

Just when he thought he couldn’t hold out any longer, Jemma cried out sharply, her body tensing up beneath his before shaking apart. The sensation of her inner muscles clenching around his cock just like they had done his fingers earlier triggered his own release, and he came with a shout, his thrusts turning erratic as pleasure burned white-hot in his veins.

Fitz only just caught himself from collapsing on top of her, propping himself up on shaky elbows as they came down from their shared high. After a minute, he felt Jemma start to card her fingers through his hair, and she turned her face to press gentle kisses to his cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered, and he couldn’t even begin to describe how it felt to hear her say it again, after everything. “I love you so much.”

He lifted his face from her neck and rooted over until he found her mouth with his to indulge in a few slow, open-mouthed kisses. It felt like a luxury, something he was very keen on exploring in more depth, but other things needed to be taken care of first. “I love you, too,” he whispered back, and kissed her again, reluctant to break away from her. “Here. Let me--I’ll be right back.”

Fitz stood on rubbery legs to go dispose of the condom, feeling Jemma’s eyes tracking him the entire way. He hadn’t quite rid himself of his body shyness around her yet, but he was sure that with time and practice they could do away with it.

He’d just reached the bed on his return from the bathroom when Jemma’s phone rang. They both groaned in dismay in concert, Jemma throwing an arm over her eyes while he flopped face-first onto the mattress. After two more rings, he felt her move to sit up and answer it.

“Hello?” she said. “Oh, hello, Mack. Yes, I found him, he’s here.” She went quiet for a moment, and Fitz rolled over to sit up next to her, amused to see a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Right, yes. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Thank you.” She lowered the phone from her ear, thumbing the screen to end the call, and set it back down on the bedside table. Then she sighed, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. “We don’t have time for a shower together,” she said, sliding her hand over his knee.

The regret clear in her voice warmed Fitz’s heart, even as an eager little thrill shot down his spine. “Maybe when we get back to base?” he asked hopefully, his mind already catching on visions of Jemma with water coursing over her naked body.

“Definitely when we get back to base,” Jemma said, then craned her head back to press a clumsy but warm kiss to his lips. “Come on. I told Mack we wouldn’t keep him waiting.” She stood to start collecting their discarded clothes from the floor, and he had a moment to admire the curves of her bum before she turned to hand him his shirt. Caught staring, he flushed and ducked his head, accepting his shirt while failing to bite back a smile.

“Fitz,” she chided, but her own smile gave her away. “The faster we get dressed, the faster we can get back to the quinjet, and the sooner we’ll be back home and able to take that shower. I’m sure you don’t want to delay that.”

“Of course not,” he replied, and pulled on the boxer-briefs she dropped in his lap. “Me and my beautiful girlfriend, in a hot, steamy shower, water running all over her? Not even Hydra would be able to keep me away.”

Jemma blinked, and for a brief, terrifying second he feared he’d been a little too familiar with his banter, so early in this new stage of their relationship. But then her expression softened into something almost dreamy, and she smiled at him again. “That’s right,” she said softly. “I’m your girlfriend now.” She leaned down to give him another kiss, full and sweet, before straightening back up and turning away to gather the rest of her clothes.

The smile lingered on her face as they both got dressed, and Fitz hoped that she would always look that way when she thought of them: happy, pleased, _in love_. He knew that this was just the beginning of their new future together and that it might not always be perfect, but he trusted Jemma to keep his heart safe. He knew he would do anything to protect hers. It was liberating, finally giving his heart away in full, and he knew he’d made the right choice with Jemma. It was a choice he was ready to make for the rest of his life.


End file.
